Tag: humour

1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I’m a prisoner of urban sterility. I feel like doing something ridiculous – yep I’m gonna sit on the grass!

Thursday, 17 August 1995 9:07am S Geez, it’s been busy here, we’ve only got ’til Monday until the final “Who The Fuck Cares” proof comes out.  And I’ve been stressed to death trying to work up the gumption to ask for a raise.  It’s so difficult, how do you do it?  Do you have a particular mantra that you intone in an undertone as you … Continue reading I’m a prisoner of urban sterility. I feel like doing something ridiculous – yep I’m gonna sit on the grass!

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I’ve read that beautiful chicks think that being beautiful is enough in itself, and they don’t put in any effort in the sack.

Friday, 30 June, 1995 9:30am Hi Sis, So, how about Hugh Grant’s little brush with the seedy underbelly of urban America?  Poor bloke, he’s really blown it (couldn’t resist, sorry). I feel a bit sorry for him, did you see the look on his face in that mug shot? It must be on the front page of every rag in England.  Everyone here keeps saying … Continue reading I’ve read that beautiful chicks think that being beautiful is enough in itself, and they don’t put in any effort in the sack.

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

Sis, please name your baby, it’s kinda important.

Monday, 12 June, 1995 S, Wow, so you’ve had the baby.  Wow.  Please name her Sis, it’s kinda important. Or maybe you could wait until she’s old enough to decide for herself, that’s a novel idea. Forty-four hours hey? That’s a stretch. Gee, is this kid gonna have that hanging over her head or what? Man, did you see the list of dud relatives I … Continue reading Sis, please name your baby, it’s kinda important.

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

I could write instruction manuals on how to be excessively trite, insensitive, hackneyed and flippant.

Tuesday, 6 June, 1995 5:52pm Hey Sis, WHERE IS THIS BABY?  I’m waiting here.  Come on woman, spit it out!  It’s technically 4 days old!  Stop hogging the limelight and let the little tacker out so it can shove you back in the shadows.  God, I’m getting impatient, this pregnancy thing is old Sis.  Bring on the Bub!  Bring on the Bub! Anyway, let’s talk about … Continue reading I could write instruction manuals on how to be excessively trite, insensitive, hackneyed and flippant.

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1995, J's Diary Entries

There’s never a black horse around when you need one.

J’s Diary Entry Friday, 26 May 1995 Whooh! Friday night drinks are getting out of control.  It started at “Klicks”.  I was feeling slightly off-colour after a lunch of quiche and was in two minds about going.  I went anyway.  Being concerned about the state of my teeth, I drank neat shots of vodka to avoid sugary mixers. A mistake.  Because there wasn’t much to them, … Continue reading There’s never a black horse around when you need one.

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1995, Letters from J, Letters to S

My brother, my birthing cheerleader.

Friday, 26 May 1995, 10:42am Wow.  I’ve just realized how soon you’re going to be having your baby.  The proximity of it hit me last night.  It’s like seven days away.  Wow.  I will have to send this today or it wont make it in time.  I really hope you’ve decided on a name for it Sis.  Call me old fashioned, but I think a … Continue reading My brother, my birthing cheerleader.

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1995, J's Diary Entries

There’s such an art to letting friendships fizzle out.

J’s Diary Entries Wednesday, 26 April, 1995 Spoke to Mum on the phone today, she had some very interesting news.  Apparently S is not going to Nan and Pop’s for Christmas.  Mum said in definite, emphatic tones, “S and the baby are spending Christmas with you and me, up here at my house.” (as opposed to “down there” at Nana and Pop’s) I think Mum … Continue reading There’s such an art to letting friendships fizzle out.

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1994, Letters from J, Letters to S

We sat around listening to CD’s drinking Kahlua, being urbane and bitchy.

6 December 1994 Dear S, This may be the last letter you receive from me. The expedition is not going well. My compatriots are fading badly, it’s the heat you see. Today the mercury has risen to 38˚, yesterday it peaked at 40˚.  There is no respite for any of us. I fear we shall all perish. We’ve already eaten three of the camels, and the … Continue reading We sat around listening to CD’s drinking Kahlua, being urbane and bitchy.

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1994, Letters from J, Letters to S

The beer helped me get to know the floor a little better.

Monday, 28 February 1994 Dear S, Hi, it’s a sunny day down here and I’m in a surprisingly good mood considering the crappy weekend I’ve had.  I feel like I’ve guzzled half a gallon of Buzz saw Blend Ultra-Caffeinated Coffee, but I haven’t touched it at all today.  If you could see the murky goo that passes for coffee here I think you’d understand. Well … Continue reading The beer helped me get to know the floor a little better.

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1994, Letters from J, Letters to S

Farts & Deadlocks on Doors

Tuesday, 11 January 1994 S, How’s it going?  I mailed your first Cleo magazine yesterday, but didn’t have time to put a letter in.  I must say, to my shame, that I had a flick through it.  Well, what I saw was enough for me to be sworn off bananas for life! (see the “Banana Smooshie” recipe in the “How to Drive Your Man Wild … Continue reading Farts & Deadlocks on Doors

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